


The Trouble With Toys

by izzyb



Series: Trouble With Toys [1]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Medical Kink, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-02
Updated: 2009-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-09 19:11:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzyb/pseuds/izzyb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chekov buys a toy to aid in his masturbatory fantasies, but it malfunctions.  He must seek help from the object of his fantasies, much to his embarrassment</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trouble With Toys

Pavel Chekov was in a panic. All the words were so jumbled in his brain that he did not know if he was thinking in English Standard, Russian, or Klingon. He briefly and foolishly thought that Lieutenant Uhura would be able to help with his brain's translation, but turned beet red at the thought of confronting her with…this. Besides, Commander Spock would kill him. He tended to be a little protective of Uhura and what he thought to be acceptable male human behavior. The captain was often the object of his famous icy, yet blank glare for being a little too explicit in his joking. Chekov often had thoughts of what Spock thought was acceptable behavior for himself with Uhura, but that was something he couldn't contemplate when working so near the intimidating man.

That was stuff of fantasies.

No, bad Chekov, he thought. Fantasies are what brought him to the panicked state he was currently experiencing. If he hadn't had those inappropriate thoughts about him in the first place, he wouldn't have felt a need to spend his credit on it.

The…thing…inside him was making it hard to think, hard to breathe, and hard to not come. Again. He was panting in short order and was desperate to get it out of him. All the fantasies he had about a certain someone were boiling down to the fact that he might have to see him and soon.

Before he had tried to remove the…thing, he had imagined (i.e. fantasized on his bed naked with much touching) showing up in sickbay with some minor ailment. The doctor would gruffly order him to disrobe and would run his scanner over his body until his noticed his state of excitement. He never really had firm details after this, but the fantasy had ended the way it always ended with Chekov coming all over his hand while breathing "Doctor McCoy."

It had been twenty minutes and the device was still firmly lodged up his ass.

He had poured over the instructions. He had done his research and was confident in his abilities to find an acceptable product. No one makes it this far in Starfleet at such a young age without being able to understand basic instructions or know how to research.

But his confidence has been shattered and now he was reduced to frantically trying to remove the thing before it did permanent damage.

Not that he wasn't still aroused. The beauty of the product (or so the packaging claimed) was that it produced chemicals that increased sexual desire in both men and women. Unfortunately the fine print (as Chekov later found out) was that it would not stop producing said chemicals until the device was removed.

He tried to think of who he could get to help him with his predicament besides the one who constantly occupied his thoughts.

Mr. Scott? No, he would laugh too much and probably refuse. He is not one to take a young man's intimate problems seriously without spreading rumors around the ship.

"Did ye hear about young Chekov? Kinky bastard had some problems…"

His roommate Sulu? While he had entertained a dirty thought now and then about Sulu's great fencing abilities and toned arms, he was his friend. He didn't like to mix friendships and sex. Especially when he shared a room with said friend, making it awkward afterward. He was so glad he was on duty right now and not here to share in his dilemma.

He dismissed the Captain as a possible candidate right away, without much debating over it. Who knows what embarrassing comments he would make on the bridge after this? The captain still cannot get over the whole Spock and Uhura relationship.

So it must be…him. Chekov often did not say his name or title, even in his head. It was too intimate, too embarrassing. He did this so no one could guess. Fantasies aside, no one should know his true feelings.

*

Five minutes later, he was standing awkwardly in sickbay. It had been quite a chore to make his way down here without being seen. The device made it even worse as it was still pulsing inside and making him harder than ever. He looked up in his misery and saw him. Dr. McCoy looked tired, but wonderful. Even in his altered state of mind, Chekov could not help but be moved by his gruff demeanor and steady hands.

He was attending to some poor man in a red shirt who had made the mistake of going on an exploratory mission with Commander Spock. The mission was mostly successful, except for the unfortunate side effect of this man losing a few fingers. He would be okay, though, as Dr. McCoy was able to reattach the fingers without too much damage. Good thing the tentacle monster had not actually eaten the redshirt's digits.

Nurse Chapel directed him to lie down but Pavel refused, politely and miserably.

"I would rather stand please." The pulsing had slowed for a minute but would be back in full force if he put pressure on it.

"You need to lie down," she said more firmly.

"I really cannot, I am so sorry." He knew that he must look extremely uncomfortable and began to blush. As he shifted on his feet, the toy happily whirled, making him that much more uneasy. He had already had to change his trousers before leaving his room. Just one thought of seeing the doctor and having those sexy hands on his intimate parts made him pass the point of no return.

"Oh," she said, not really understanding but trying to make him feel a little less miserable. "I will just let you wait and talk to Dr. McCoy."

He shivered a little, wondering what the doctor would say to him. Would he be embarrassed? Would he be interested? These months of longing had built him up so much to even think of trying something to sate his desire. And look what problems that had caused.

The doctor was finally free to see him. The redshirt had been sent back to his quarters.

"What seems to be the problem, Ensign?"

"It is a…personal nature."

McCoy sighed. "It's been a hell of a long night, son, so please tell me what I need to do to send you on your way."

Pavel blushed and said, all in a rush, "I have something stuck inside me." As soon as he said this, a wave of lust shook him as the chemicals from the toy reached his already-hard cock. He was going to come and he couldn't stop himself. He grabbed the doctor's arm in reflex.

"Stuck inside you? Wha--" McCoy's eyes went very wide as the young man's face went very red, he began panting softly, and the front of his regulation pants became very damp.

Pavel looked everywhere but at the doctor. He realized that he was still holding on to McCoy's arm and quickly snatched his hand away from the (warm) fabric of his blue uniform shirt.

The doctor's face had also turned a little pink, not that Pavel thought he was embarrassed. Gruff doctor types were never embarrassed, just surprised. He had probably seen worse, what with the rash of sex pollen the past few months. McCoy quickly drew the curtain around the bio-bed.

"Take down your pants and turn over, ensign," he said very properly. Chekov wondered what he was thinking, but stiffly followed orders. He felt cool hands touch his warm back and ever-so-softly tiptoe its way to where the device was firmly lodged in between his buttocks. Pavel turned his head around to see what the doctor was doing.

"Do you see it?" he whispered. He was afraid to call any more attention to himself. He still wondered what was going on in that oh-so-intelligent doctory brain of his, but the doctor's expression did not give anything away.

"What exactly am I looking for?"

"It's a device, a sexual device. I tried something new and it got…stuck." He could hear the snap of plastic glove and tensed a bit, which did not help the pulsing inside of him. The doctor placed a gloved finger at his opening and felt around a bit. The fact that it was McCoy, the chemicals from the toy, and the oh-so-knowledgeable fingers made Pavel shudder and get hard, again.

The doctor did not say anything, making Pavel worry, but then he felt two fingers enter this time with a little more purpose. He looked over his shoulder and saw the object of his fantasies, red-faced, biting his lip, with two fingers in his ass. He could feel the doctor touching all his sensitive parts, made even more so by the long-exposure to the aphrodisiacs in his oh-so-foolish purchase. He was completely aroused by now and all it would take is the right touch. Almost there, almost there. McCoy reached his prostate in his quest to find the object, causing Pavel to shudder more and almost come right then.

Suddenly, there was a large pop and the pressure stopped. McCoy took the offending object and placed it on the bed next to Pavel.

There was a deep silence in the sickbay. Chekov's face was burning against the cool sheet of the bio-bed where he had laid it during the removal. He was so embarrassed and wondered how he could ever face the doctor again. One thing was for certain—he was never getting sick. And if he did, he was never entering the sickbay when the doctor was there. Of course, McCoy was never not there, so he was just never getting sick.

His thought process was slowed by a cool hand rubbing over his back, soothingly. This caused Pavel to eventually look over his shoulder once more, still shuddering a bit. The doctor looked troubled, but there was no reprimand on his face.

The stroking stopped when their eyes met.

"You said my name."

"I…what?" Pavel was confused.

"Before, when you…came. You said my name."

Pavel turned over and looked at him, embarrassed. He would have sat there for a while if the doctor had not taken his face and his hands and kissed him. He realized then that what was troubling him was actually arousal.

The doctor kissed roughly and efficiently, bruising Pavel's lips with tongue and teeth. He pressed closely to the younger man, rubbing himself against his hard cock, still exposed from the "medical" procedure. McCoy opened his trousers and grabbed Pavel's hand. Chekov, not slow in the least, firmly stroked him in a way that he knew he enjoyed when he thought of this man. The doctor grabbed hold of Pavel's hard cock and the room was filled with heavy breathing as they strained against one another.

Chekov broke from the rough kiss and bit the doctor's shoulder as he came once more. The doctor followed shortly after with a muffled "fuck."

They remained in that position for a while, breathing hard, forehead to shoulder.

"You are going to be trouble, son."

"Pavel, sir. My name is Pavel." He said, his voice muffled as his face was still buried in the blue fabric of the doctor's shirt.

It was a good few minutes before they broke away from one another. "Well, Pavel. Be sure to be more cautious in your selection of sexual aids."

Chekov was not embarrassed this time and did not redden, at least he tried not to, when he looked McCoy in the eyes and said, "Yes, sir, would you assist me in doing so?"

This time it was the doctor's turn to flush. "I am done here at 2300 hours."

The troublesome toy sat alone on the bio-bed as Chekov left sickbay. He had a feeling that he did not need the thing anymore. It had already served its purpose. He grinned happily, already looking forward to what would happen later that evening.


End file.
